


Yours and Mine

by machinewithoutfeelings



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Emotional Sex, M/M, Partner Swapping, Rough Sex, Spanking, Taking Pictures During Sex, Verbal Humiliation, erotic crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machinewithoutfeelings/pseuds/machinewithoutfeelings
Summary: They decide to switch things up for a night.





	1. Yuri and Yuuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be some kind of record for most use of the name Yuri/Yuuri in a single fic. I tried to check them all, but please tell me if I mixed any up.
> 
>  
> 
> The more...intense tags are for Chapter Two, so stick around if you want to.

“And you made this yourself? I knew that you were a good cook, but I didn’t know that you, um, baked as well.”

“Yes! Well, I’ve been teaching myself. I’m glad it wasn’t a disaster.”

The scrape of Otabek’s fork across the dish resembled the screech that had been building up in Yuri’s chest, begging to be let out while listening to that inane small talk. They all knew why they were there- after all, it had been discussed _at length_ beforehand. Mostly in a group chat, thank goodness. He didn’t knew why they had all insisted on eating beforehand, like it was a normal dinner party between two couples. Viktor held out the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, tapping it lightly on the edge of Yuri’s glass, and Yuri nodded. Please. He watched the glass fill up way past the point of a normal pour, and Yuri was grateful. He took a greedy sip, a little too much that left some dribbling from his lips. He wiped it off with the cloth napkin, then took another drink as he watched Yuuri and Otabek continue to make awkward conversation about apple cake.

They were both such dorks.

After taking another large gulp comprised of about half the wine in his glass, Yuri stuck a leg out under the table and ran it up the side of Yuuri’s calf. Yuuri jumped, his fork clattering down to his plate, and turned to look across the table. Yuri tilted his head to look at his boyfriend, immediately noticing the way Otabek’s eyes darkened, the way a small smile formed on his face.

“I think Yura is getting impatient,” he said, folding over his napkin and placing it on top of his plate. “Maybe we should move on to the next phase of the night?” 

“I agree,” Viktor said. Yuri turned his gaze to him. He was wearing a dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, unbuttoned to show just too much of his collarbones for a normal social gathering. Light from the flickering candles was moving through his silver hair, and he honestly looked just as breathtakingly beautiful as he had ten years ago, when Yuri was going through puberty and jerking off every night to the thought of doing something amorphously sexual to him. For a moment, Yuri was jealous that he wouldn’t be the one taking Viktor home tonight.

Then he looked back at Yuuri, took in the flush of his cheeks and the glossy sheen of spit on his lips, which he kept licking nervously, and he wasn’t jealous of anything.

“I love you,” he said to Otabek, giving him a few long, lingering kisses by the front door as Yuuri and Viktor whispered their good nights in the living room a few feet away. He handed Otabek his motorcycle jacket, helped him zip it up to the neck and then wrapped a scarf tight around his him. His fingers lingered just at the base of his boyfriend’s throat.

“We don’t have to do this, Yura,” Otabek said in a low voice. “If you’ve changed your mind.”

“Hell no,” Yuri said. He kissed Otabek one more time, soundly, lips closed. A goodnight kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning. Have...fun.” 

“You, too.” 

Then Viktor was in the foyer, pulling on his coat, standing close to Otabek. “Good night, Yuri,” he said, slipping his hands into expensive leather gloves. “You’ll treat my love right, I hope.”

Yuri swallowed, nodded. “And you- goodnight.” The door shut behind them; Yuri could hear Viktor locking it on the other side with a key. 

Yuuri was back in the dining room, stacking plates on top of each other, grabbing the silverware and putting it all on top. Wordlessly, Yuri picked up the napkins and blew out the candles. It was dark in the room without them- they had lined the table, providing most of the light. Yuuri was still standing on the other side of the table, hands clutched on the stack of plates. He had been excited for this, Yuri knew. He had received some texts from Yuuri recently that he almost had a hard time believing came from him, where they talked about exactly what they wanted to do to each other tonight. But now, that the time had come- was he going to back out? What would that mean for all of them, if they didn’t do it and Otabek and Viktor-

Yuri held up the napkins. “Where should I-”

“There’s a wicker basket,” Yuuri said. “Just inside the kitchen. Just throw them in there.” 

They left the wine bottle and their two glasses on the table, but took everything else. Yuri leaned against the counter, watching Yuuri as he turned on the faucet and scraped the leftover bits down the garbage disposal. He found himself wishing he had brought his wine glass in with him, wanting the sharp taste on his tongue to calm his nerves, but he didn’t want to let Yuuri out of his sight. He watched him rinse off the dishes, stack them neatly into the dishwasher, sort the forks and spoons and knives into the silverware basket. He washed Otabek and Viktor’s wine glasses by hand, then set them upside down on a rack to dry. When there was nothing left to wash, he just stood there with the water running.

“So,” Yuuri said. “I guess we should-” 

Yuri mouth suddenly felt very dry, and he wished that he had anything to drink. He moved next to Yuuri and cupped his hands under the faucet. When he brought them up to his lips to drink, his eyes met Yuuri’s for the first time since they had been left alone. 

“Fuck,” Yuuri said, and he grabbed Yuri’s hands with his own wet ones, flinging the rest of the water to the floor. His sudden movements made Yuri stumble back a little, but Yuuri wrapped a hand around the small of his back and steadied them both. His face was close, and Yuri reached to take his glasses off and place them on the counter. They were going to kiss. Being nervous about that seemed ridiculous, after everything they had talked about and planned, but he was going to kiss Yuuri Katsuki, Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, after seven years of lowkey pining. Not like he had when was a young teenager- Yuri was in love with Otabek. He didn’t want to spend his life with anyone else. There had always been something about Yuuri, though. Something that turned his blood hot and made his legs go weak.

Yuuri ran his wet hand up Yuri’s clothed stomach and chest, over his collarbones and neck, then pulled him in close and kissed him. There was something filthy about kissing Yuuri; it made him feel like he two seconds away from waking up sticky and alone and fifteen in Yu-Topia, where the man currently kissing him had featured in many, many of his dreams. The real Yuuri was an even better kisser. The real Yuuri was rock hard and grinding against Yuri’s leg.

“We’re really doing this?” 

His words were hot against his lips, and tasted faintly of apple cake. 

“Of course, Katsudon,” Yuri said, his voice cracking. “It’s what we planned, right? But you don’t want to do it in the kitchen, do you?”

Yuuri shook his head, regretfully taking his hands off of Yuri, and went to turn off the faucet. When they both left the kitchen, they stopped off at the dining table and drained both of their wine glasses. The alcohol filled his belly with warmth and calmed his nerves a bit. 

“Do you want to go to the bed?” Yuuri asked. Yuri nodded.

Yuuri led him past the bedroom that Yuri knew that he shared with Viktor, into the guest bedroom. There was only one bedroom in the apartment that Yuri shared with with Otabek- he wondered if they were there by now. Viktor and Otabek, naked in the bed he slept in every night. Yuri might have been jealous at the mental image, if he hadn’t been picturing that kind of thing for a month straight. Now it only got him hot, knowing the things that they wanted to do together- the things Otabek could do for Viktor that Yuuri couldn’t. It made Yuri proud.

And besides. He had this.

Yuuri stripping down in the light of a small bedside lamp. 

Yuri pulled off his own shirt and threw it on a chair. He went to unbutton his jeans, but found that his hands were shaking. He didn’t know if it was because he was about to have sex with Yuuri, or because he was about to have sex with someone other than Otabek. He never had. He didn’t think he would be able to do this with anyone other than Yuuri, still couldn’t believe that Yuuri actually wanted to, couldn’t believe that-

“Do you need some help?” Yuuri asked, and there he was, unbuttoning Yuri’s pants, pulling down the zip. He looked up with his brown eyes, because he was shorter than Yuri now, not like he had been in teenage fantasies where he had crawled into Yuri’s futon and overwhelmed him with his body. “Don’t be nervous, Yurio. It’s just me.” He had a palm flat on Yuri’s chest, fingers tickling at his ribs in a way that almost burned.

“Maybe that’s why I’m nervous,” Yuri said. 

Yuuri laughed softly. He looked back down at Yuri’s chest. He tongue darted out the side of side of his lips, and he was _Eros_ , leaning down and taking one of Yuri’s nipples into his mouth. He suckled around it and Yuri groaned, grabbing a hold of Yuuri’s shoulders to keep steady. When Yuuri pulled off, he smiled, flicked at the little hardened nub drawing another little strangled moan out of Yuri. “They’re so pink,” he said, rubbing at it with the pad of his thumb while Yuri began to rock against him. “And they’re sensitive.”

How did he feel like this already? Like he could fucking blow his load just from Katsudon sucking on his nipples. They had always been sensitive, yes, but he had never felt on fire exactly like this. 

Yuri stepped out of his pants and kicked them across the floor. They were both in their underwear. He took a step forward, pressing their bodies together. He grabbed the bottom of Yuuri’s chin and kissed him again, harder this time, licking into his mouth and tasting him because he could. He took a handful of his delicious ass as they stumbled back to the bed. Yuuri ended up sitting on the edge with Yuri in his lap, grinding their erections together as they made out fucking slowly. 

Yuuri’s hand ran up the bare skin of Yuri’s back, then tangled in the bottom of his long blonde hair. He formed a fist and then gave a solid tug, which made Yuri cry out and his hips stutter.

“You like that?” Yuuri asked. He gave another pull, a little more gentle, as he peppered kisses along Yuri’s jawline. “Good. I’ve always wanted to- I want to hold on to it, later, while I fuck you. If that’s okay?”

“More than okay,” Yuri said, letting himself slide down between Yuuri’s legs until his knees were on the hardwood floor. His dark red boxer briefs were tented in the front, and Yuri rubbed his cheek against the clothed erection, wet at the tip. “I’ve always wanted to see your cock.” Yuri hooked both index fingers just under the elastic waistband. “I’ve gotten myself off to the thought of it in my mouth more times than I can count.” He ran two straight fingers up the side of it, and Yuuri whimpered above him.

“Y-Yurio-”

Yuri pulled the briefs down and got his first look at Yuuri’s dick. Fuck, it was _thick_ , shiny purple at the tip coming out of the foreskin. It was already leaking with precum, and Yuri just wanted to get his mouth around it. He did, taking it in slowly until it hit the back of his throat. Yuuri bucked his hips as Yuri slid his mouth up and down his length, but Yuri pressed his hands into the expanse of Yuuri’s thighs and held him down. The edges of his mouth hurt as they were pulled tight by the girth of Yuuri’s cock fucking in and out of his mouth. 

“Y-Yuri…” Yuri’s eyes moved to look above him, just in time to see Yuuri throw back his head and laugh. Cheeks flushes, black hair falling from his face. Beautiful. “It’s strange to say during sex. I feel like I’m- oh fuck-” Yuuri clutched his hands over Yuri’s, squeezed them tight. “God, you can take it all, can’t you? Fuck.” 

Yeah, he could. Yuri felt absurdly proud to be able to show off like this. Yuri ran a hand behind his cock and cupped his balls, squeezing with just enough pressure to make him moan with pleasure and not pain. 

“I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” Yuuri said, panting, though his hips were doing half the work. “Don’t want to come down your throat. Not right now, at least.” Yuri pulled back a bit, sucking lightly on the tip while playing with his balls. He felt Yuuri lean back, then sit up again. “Yuri. Look up.”

Yuri flitted his eyes up, mouth still wrapped around Yuuri’s thick cock, and was greeted with a flash. Oh, this then. Yuri pulled off his cock and wrapped a hand around it, giving it a few lazy strokes while he wiped off his mouth. 

“Don’t use the flash,” he said. “It’ll make me look all washed out.”

“You don’t,” Yuuri said. “Get up here.”

Yuri heard the sound of the picture being sent as he crawled up onto the bed. Yuuri placed the phone on the nightstand, still well within reach, and then opened up the drawer. He pulled out a tube of lube that looked new and sat it up next to his phone. Yuri climbed across the bed, then clung to his back. 

“What all do you have in there?” he asked, trying to take a peek in the drawer. “Anything fun?”

Yuuri slammed the drawer shut. “Nosy,” he said. “Besides, that’s not where we keep our toys.”

“You’ll have to show me,” Yuri said, hanging his head over Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri turned around and pushed him flat on his back. “Take your boxers off,” he said, uncapping the lube. Yuri obeyed, and then spread his legs without being asked. He watched Yuuri slick up his fingers- fingers that would be inside him soon. _Yuuri’s_ fingers. Something shivered through Yuri just at the thought of that, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking his cock in hand and giving it a stroke. Yuuri noticed, and gave a gentle slap with his other hand.

“None of that,” he said. “I’ll take care of you.”

Yuri closed his eyes, and then a moment later he felt it. His cheeks being spread, and the cold touch of Yuuri’s lubed up fingers rubbing circles around his entrance. 

“Relax,” Yuuri said, his other hand holding Yuri tightly at the waist. He dipped a finger slightly in, then a second. There was a stinging burn every time he pushed his knuckles past the rim, but Yuri was fucked often and used to it. Craved it. Yuuri’s delicate fingers felt so different than than Otabek’s thick ones. Yuri wiggled down into the sheets and opened his eyes just slightly, just to get a glimpse of the man hovering over him as he fucked Yuri with his fingers. Yuuri’s cheeks were flushed pink, and his black hair hung over his eyes. Yuri’s fell further down, trying to see where they were connected, only able to see Yuuri’s wrist moving as he pushed into him.

“Feels so good,” Yuri whimpered. “I want to feel your cock in me.”

“You’re impatient,” Yuuri said, using the hand that wasn’t fingering him to slowly jerk him off. Movements too lethargic to actually do anything but drive Yuri crazy wanting more. “Spoiled brat.” He said it fondly, though, with absolutely no edge to his voice at all. He pulled his fingers out, though, leaving Yuri pushing back against nothing but air a few times, mourning the feeling of being full.

“Can you blame me for being overeager?” Yuri said. “This is- fuck, this is the only thing I’ve been able to think about for weeks.” 

Yuuri didn’t look at him, but he smiled as he picked up the bottle of lube again. “Me too,” he said softly, and then squeezed more out into his hand. He looked back at the bedside table. “Are you sure you don’t want to use a condom? I have some.”

“No,” Yuri said, maybe a little too quickly, but they had talked about this. “I mean, we’re both clean. And I- I kind of wanted to-”

Yuuri looked at him, waiting.

“I wanted to feel you,” Yuri said, and fuck, this was embarrassing. “Inside of me. Even after?” He was probably turning bright red like some kind of blushing virgin, what the hell. 

“Oh, Yuri,” Yuuri said, fisting his cock, slicking it up with the lube so that he could slide inside Yuri easily. “I didn’t know that you were so sentimental.”

Yuri looked up at him when he felt the cock nudging at his hole. There was Katsuki Yuuri, flush and warm to the touch, gazing down at Yuri and smiling fondly. He tucked some blonde hair behind his ear and cupped his cheek. Looking was almost too much, so Yuri squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Yuuri begin to push in, turned his face into his open palm. He let out little gasping breaths as the thick cock pushed its way past his rim, biting down on the skin of Yuuri’s hand as the other fully seated himself. 

“Ow!” Yuuri moved his hand and shook it, laughing. “Don’t bite me. At least not on the palm.” He put both hands flat on the mattress on either side of Yuri’s head. His head hung close to Yuri’s face, close enough for Yuri to feel hot breath on his neck. “Yurio…” he murmured, nudging Yuri’s jawline with his nose as he began to move his hips. 

Yuri tried to push up against him as Yuuri ground him back against the rumpled up sheets. “Fuck, fuck, yes,” he mumbled, grabbing at Yuuri’s back, pulling him close until they were chest to sweaty chest. Yuuri was excruciatingly slow as he fucked him, pulling out and pushing back in with lazy strokes that left Yuri completely filled but aching for more. “Come on,” he said against Yuuri’s lips, barely capturing them in a kiss, then pulling at the bottom one with his teeth. “Come on, fuck me.”

“Impatient baby,” Yuuri laughed, lessening his already gentle thrusts even more. “Do you want to come immediately? Or make it last?” 

“You’re killing me,” Yuri whined, digging his fingers into the clammy skin of Yuuri’s back as they kissed again, uncoordinated tongues barely able to stay in their panting mouths. He felt too hot, closed in, under-touched but still somehow overstimulated. It was like time was moving in slow motion and he could feel every drag of Yuuri’s cock inside of him, every slide of his hips against his. Every time he opened his eyes he saw Yuuri’s eyes and his red cheeks and his fucking gorgeous mouth, hanging half open just so he could breathe. _Fuck_ , this was almost too much like making love.

“Flip me over,” Yuri said, when he could catch his breath. “Bend me over the side of the bed.” 

He obeyed, and when Yuri turned on his belly, Yuuri grabbed his ankles and tugged him to the edge of the bed. When he pushed back into him this time, it was one quick slide. Yuri was filled before he was even ready for it, and he let out a surprised cry. 

“ _Yes!_ ” Yuri almost felt like weeping when Yuuri started out fucking him with a steady pace this time. 

“This what you wanted?” Yuuri asked, tangling his hands in the blonde hair in front of him and giving it a solid yank. He pounded Yuri into the mattress, and each thrust was now almost hitting him in just the perfect angle. “This is how I want you.” He tightened his grip on the hair, so that the upper part of Yuri’s body was pulled up from the mattress with it. Yuuri ran his hand along the tight muscles of Yuri’s stomach, but deliberately avoided touching his cock. Yuri whined, trying to thrust against the mattress just to get some friction on his neglected cock. 

He moved his hips slightly, and oh, fuck, there it was. Yuri knew that he could come just like this, Yuuri slamming into him from behind and hitting him right in the prostate, making those fucking noises, breathing heavy right behind him. He let go of Yuri’s hair and Yuri’s face fell right back into the unfamiliar sheets as Yuuri’s moved both hands to his hips, squeezing tight as he fucked into him as hard as he could. 

It was too much, so much, he could feel him _everywhere_ , and then Yuri was coming untouched, spurting hot onto his chest and onto the bed. He almost collapsed at the overwhelming feeling, but Yuuri caught him with one hand. He ran his fingers over the cum decorating Yuri’s chest.

“Did you-” Yuuri practically moaned. “Without even touching yourself. Fuck, _Yuri_.”

He slammed into him a few more times before his grip became brusing, and his forehead fell against the back of Yuri’s neck. Yuri could only moan happily when he felt Yuuri release inside him, his thrusts becoming more and more shallow until they still completely. This was what he wanted, for his insides to be painted with Yuuri’s cum. 

When Yuuri pulled out, things were gross and sticky, but neither of them could move right away. They lay next to each other, breathing heavily, and eventually Yuuri rolled his head over to look at him. His eyes were a beautiful umber as they’d always been, framed by dark lashes and resting in a soft, lovely face. He moved forward and kissed Yuri’s cheek. “I really do love you, Yurio,” he said softly, resting his chin on Yuri’s shoulder. 

For a second his heart stopped, because there had been a time in his adolescence where Yuri would have given anything to hear that, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Now, though, Yuri understood the meaning behind it in a way he never could have before. He knew what it was to be in love. And he wasn’t in love with Yuuri. And Yuuri wasn’t in love with him. They weren’t meant for each other like that. That didn’t mean there wasn’t something binding them tightly together, though. He _did_ love him, even if it wasn’t in the way most of the world understood love. Even if it was skating on a delicate line of something.

“You too, Katsudon,” he said, daring just a short look at other man before closing his eyes again. “I think you forgot to take more pictures.”

“Oh, no, you’re right!” Yuuri said, and he was scrambling to grab his phone off of the nightstand. “Whoa. We got a response.” He held his phone out for Yuri to see the picture Otabek had sent, and Yuri could see the slightest bit of worry lining his face.

“He’s fine,” Yuri said. “Don’t worry. Otabek will take care of him.”

“I know,” Yuuri said, though he was still staring down at the picture of Viktor. Mushy idiot.

“Take a picture of me looking all fucked out,” Yuri said, sprawling out again. “Then let’s watch TV or something for a while before going again. And have some more of that apple cake.” His appetite had suddenly arrived, and he was ravenous for something sweet. 

“Sounds good,” Yuuri said, pulling up the camera and pointing it at Yuri. “Say hello to Otabek and Viktor.”

Yuri ran his fingers over his chest, catching some of the cum still left there. His brought them up to his lips and _sucked_ , cleaning them off as the camera flashed. He thought of Beka, his handsome fucking Beka, and what he knew he was doing miles away. He felt that odd sense of pride again, because Otabek _would_ take care of Viktor, he knew. Otabek was the best.

And he was all his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter...the Otavik! The vibe will be, um, very different. If you can tell by the tags.
> 
> follow me at [machinewithoutfeelings](http://machinewithoutfeelings.tumblr.com/)


	2. Otabek and Viktor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so this one was of the harder things I've ever written. Sorry for the...massive delay, haha.

They rode his motorcycle back to Otabek and Yuri’s apartment. It was strange, clinging to Otabek as they drove through the cold night. It took Viktor to another place, where he was younger, letting himself be picked up by random men and just taken somewhere, not asking questions. Not knowing where he was headed. Just going, because they told him to. Letting them use him any way they wanted. He felt out of his body, but in a good way, hopefully. His mind felt disconnected, but he was hard, pressed up against Otabek’s back. 

They parked under a streetlight, across the street from the apartment building. Yuri and Otabek lived in an older building, not sleek and modern like his own, but elegant in an old world way. He had been with them the day they moved in, the summer before. People had lined the streets, cyclists and laughing children and dog-walkers. Now there was no one, and it was silent in the dark, the only sound the crunching of snow beneath Viktor’s feet as he followed Otabek across the road. Otabek didn’t wait for him, or walk beside him- Viktor knew he was just meant to follow.

They got in the small elevator off the lobby, and Otabek pressed three. It was bright in the elevator, and Viktor stared at Otabek, but Otabek didn’t look at him at all. He might have been nervous, but Viktor couldn’t exactly tell. 

It stopped on the third floor, and as the stepped out into the narrow hallway, Otabek caught his arm. 

“You’re still okay with everything we agreed on?” he asked. 

“Of course,” Viktor said, and he was, but also felt this nervous undercurrent right below his skin. Or was that excitement? The thrill of going home with someone new, a thrill he had not felt in quite a while, except this time it was not a stranger, so there was no fear. Otabek was safe. Yuri had laughed and leaned in close and assured him, yes, _Otabek is safe_.

“Okay,” Otabek said, and he nodded solemnly, as if a contract was sealed. He unlocked his door with a copper key, and Viktor just watched, feeling a bit glued to the spot, aroused, knowing the apartment that dark doorway led to and at the same time feeling like he was entering into a completely new space. After a moment of waiting, Otabek turned around. His face was different. Normally he looked sort of stoic, but now he looked almost angry. “Are you just going to stand there, panting like you’re in heat?” he asked, and the force in his voice startled Viktor. “Do you really want all of my neighbors to know how easy you are? Get _inside_.” 

He could only obey, and he scrambled past Otabek to get inside. He reached to turn on the light, but Otabek smacked his hand away. “Don’t,” he said, and then he started unwinding the scarf from around his neck. Viktor copied this action, and hung his scarf and coat on the hook next to Otabek’s. 

“Go into the bedroom,” Otabek said, not even looking at him. “Get undressed and on the bed. I’ll be in there in a moment.”

Viktor knew, and went on his own to the bedroom. He and Yuuri had spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning their home in anticipation of their guests, but in here, nothing had been done. Shoes were strewn across the floor, a couple of glasses sat on a nightstand, multiple animal print leggings were thrown over the back of a chair. Evidence of Otabek and Yuri everywhere. 

He went for his top button and made his way down. He folded the shirt carefully and placed it on the chair, following it with his undershirt, pants, shoes and socks. The briefs he left on, before crawling into the unmade bed. Rolling over, Viktor pressed his face into the sheets, breathing in the scent of other people’s sex. 

“I thought I told you to undress. Can you not even listen to simple instructions?” Viktor heard footsteps cross the hardwood floor, but he didn’t look up. Otabek stopped beside the bed and ran his finger just under the waistband of Viktor’s briefs, then let them snap down. “Does this look like undressed to you? Take these off.” 

Viktor hooked his thumbs into them, then wiggled them down. Just a bit, not all the way.

“Hiding something from me?” Otabek yanked them down, paused a moment, then tapped at the metal base of the plug Viktor had already inside of him. “I knew it,” Otabek said, and his voice purred with something between anger and arousal. “Slut.”

“I wanted to be ready for you,” Viktor said, in a small voice, not quite able to look up. His body was humming; he took a peek at the arm he had slung beside his head, and every hair was standing up.

“You wanted be ready for whoever,” Otabek said, and Viktor could hear him opening the drawer of the nightstand, shuffling around for something. He found whatever he was looking for and slid the drawer shut. “Don’t pretend it was so special for me. If I hadn’t come along to fill your hole, someone else would have.” Viktor heard the clank of metal. “Hands up. It’ll be easier for me.”

Both arms flew over Viktor’s head without a thought of disobedience. Otabek reached down, flipped his body over roughly. He was staring down at him, eyes dark and uncaring, almost bored. He looked Viktor over, inspecting him nonchalantly, reaching down and pinching one pink nipple, watching him squirm. Viktor followed the movement of Otabek’s hands as he closed one cuff around Viktor’s wrist and the other around the metal headboard, then the other. He tugged at Viktor’s wrist to make sure his hands couldn’t slip through. He ran his fingers down the length of Viktor’s arm, over his collarbone, right until they were under his chin. 

“Was your husband not enough for you, that you had to come looking for this?” Otabek asked. 

Viktor’s shook his head roughly, knocking Otabek’s fingers away. “No,” he said. “Yuuri just- Yuuri can’t treat me rough.” Otabek had reached down, and he started to slowly drag the plug out of Viktor. Viktor tried to swallow his moan, but choked on it instead, ended up sputtering all over his words. “H-he, he can’t be mean to me. He loves me too much.”

Otabek removed the plug completely, threw it to the floor. He immediately rubbed two fingers over the loose hole, dipping in slightly then withdrawing. “Yeah,” he said. “Your husband loves you so much that he’s back at your home fucking the younger, better, newer version of you. He’s so devoted.” He ripped open a condom and threw the wrapper on Viktor’s chest. He rolled it on and pushed back on Viktor’s legs, pulled them up and tried to push them down to the sides. “How flexible are you still?” he asked. Viktor’s thighs began to feel tight, at their limit. “You want to be used like a ragdoll but you can’t even get your legs behind your head.” 

Viktor closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on everything he was feeling. Otabek’s large hands moving all over his body, the blunt head of his cock pushing roughly against his entrance. It stung so differently than Yuuri as it made its way past the ring of muscle- he was thicker than the plug so there was still that stretch, that burn, that feeling like it could tear him apart. It sent Viktor reeling; his brain felt like it was falling into the pit of his stomach. He wanted grab at Otabek, dig his fingers into the skin of his back, pull him all the way in, but his hands were restrained. The metal cuffs dug at his wrists as Otabek began to give him shallow thrusts.

“Your face,” Otabek said. “You’re begging for it.” He slowed down even more. “Been awhile since you’ve been fucked like this?" 

Viktor whimpered, rolling his hips up and turning his face to the side. Otabek grabbed him by the chin, yanked his gaze back up so that they were staring at each other. It was too much, Otabek’s intense stare and the painful slow pressure of the way he fucked him. Viktor wanted to disappear inside of himself, become a hole to fuck into. He turned his head and bit down, lightly, on Otabek’s thumb. His face was dropped immediately. 

“Hurt me more,” he whined, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“I’m not taking requests,” Otabek asked, but he began to pick up speed, pounding harder and deeper. Viktor’s cock lay hard and dribbling against his stomach, untouched. He rubbed his large hands over Viktor’s belly, over his hips, so close to where he felt himself throbbing but careful not to touch his dick at all. The teasing of it, combined with the frequent jabs against his prostate, made Viktor sob. He felt Otabek move a hand up, wipe a thumb right under his wet eyes. He opened them to find Otabek’s face close, bobbing with every thrust.

“You cry a lot when you’re getting fucked?” Slam. “Like a baby?” He jammed his thumb into Viktor’s mouth, made him suck on it and Viktor tasted the salt of his own tears. “Yeah, that’s good. You’re good and obedient, aren’t you?” Viktor practically whimpered at this praise, finally, sucking harder on the digit, trying to pull it to the back of his throat, but it wouldn’t go that far. He watched with lowered eyes as Otabek aimed his phone’s camera at his most likely red and disgusting face, taking a few pictures. “I bet you wish there were a few more people in here. You want someone to shove their cock in your mouth while I fuck you?” Otabek laid down his phone and added two fingers to join his thumb. Viktor moaned as he slobbered over them nodding. “What’s the largest number of people you’ve let fuck you at once? Two?” He punctuated the number with a particularly hard thrust. Viktor shook his head. “Three?” No again. 

“Four?”

“Five?”

“Six?”

Viktor cried out, nodding, ripping his mouth off Otabek’s hand, trying to rub his ass in the right direction to get the stimulation he needed, twisting and squirming in the restrictive clutches of the handcuffs. He thought about being covered in cum, filled in every hole. Touched from every side, but Yuuri still the one above him, hand on his cheek, guiding him meet his eyes. _“Vitya, I want you to feel everything.”_

“These are getting in the way now.”

He heard the click of his cuffs opening on both sides and then his arms were free. He barely had time to stretch his arms before Otabek grabbed him, pulled him into his lap. He was strong, but that came as no shock to anyone who had spent any time looking at his arms. And his chest. His neck, even...now from the vantage point of straddling him, Viktor had a much better view than before. He let his gaze follow the line of Otabek’s collarbone, the tan skin, smooth but so sweaty. Heavy breathing, those serious eyes, clumps of damp hair falling over his eyes...and a tiny smile. Viktor answered it with one of his own and a roll of his hips. 

“Oh, is that what you’re thinking?” Otabek asked, letting his fingers dig hard enough into the pale skin of Viktor’s hips that he could almost feel tomorrow’s purpling bruises. Viktor rose, then sunk back down. “You have your hands and suddenly you’re in charge?”

“Don’t want to be in charge,” Viktor said, closing his eyes and slowly fucking himself on Otabek’s thick cock. He felt Otabek’s nails at the base of his neck, scraping slow up through his hair, and a shiver ran all through him. A finger twirled around some hair and pulled back; Otabek sucked at his neck, and when it was tender and bruised, he bit down with his front teeth. He began lifting Viktor up and done at a medium pace, steady. He began to go a little faster, losing a touch of control as he started to fuck up into him. His breaths came from deep in his chest until he finally let his head tip back, letting out a quiet groan and spilling inside of him.

“Lay over my lap,” he said.

Viktor was long. His body took up the length of the bed, with his pert little ass sitting up on Otabek’s legs that hung over the side. Otabek was running his fingertips over it, up to Viktor’s lower back, touch feather light, but Viktor tensed in anticipation for something more. The touch was lifted for a moment, and then Otabek’s full palm came down, slapping down on Viktor’s ass, making him burn and tingle and rut down into his lap. “Is this what you need?” Otabek asked, voice husky, running one hand over Viktor’s lube-drenched, cum-leaking hole while rubbing the other over the slightly reddened section of Viktor’s skin. “Do you need someone to put you in your place, Viktor Nikiforov?” He gave another smack, just in the same spot, then another, and another, until Viktor’s skin was becoming almost unbearably sensitive and sore. Otabek’s fingers were circling his hole, then two easily slid in, then three. “You want to be fucked out until you fade away?” Otabek asked, moving his digits fast into Viktor’s hole, filling him, jamming into his prostate, spanking him continuously with his other hand. Viktor screamed from the sudden onslaught of sensation, humping down into Otabek’s lap like an uncontrollable animal. He was overwhelmed from the pain and the ridiculous pleasure and the careful lack of care in the way Otabek fucked him with his fingers. He didn’t even try to touch himself, just rubbed off onto Otabek’s bare leg as he took four fingers into himself, fucking furiously, nothing held back because he could take it all. His orgasm rolled over him like it was punched out of him, sweaty face shoved into the pillow, shooting hot cum out all over Otabek’s thighs. He was overheated, overstimulated, his whole felt on fire like a star.

Steady breaths. Sticky body, sliding off of Otabek’s and under the covers. Viktor felt like he could fall asleep here, curled up with pleasure, worn out and sated.

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” Otabek asked, a strong hand on Viktor’s hip almost protectively. Viktor opened his eyes. Otabek was looking down on him, a slightly stern expression of possible worry on his face. Viktor smiled to reassure him, shook his head weakly. 

“I just want to lay here a few minutes, if that’s okay? Then I’ll just take a shower.”

“Of course,” Otabek said. “I’ll be out there, if you need anything.”

 

Viktor exited the bedroom, toweling off his hair with one of the clean towels that had been folded neatly by the bathtub. He found Otabek sitting at the table that sat at the end of the galley kitchen. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but gray pajama bottoms. His broad chest did give Viktor a little thrill, especially watching him so seriously as he cut into a piece of fruit. He could see the appeal. Obviously. Otabek held up the pomegranate when he saw Viktor standing there, hovering in the doorway. “Would you like some?”

Viktor nodded. He took a seat at the small table and Otabek got up to get him a bowl. He sat it down in front of Viktor, then reached into the score marks he’d made on the pomegranate and pulled out a section. They sat across from each other, quietly deseeding the pomegranates, hands red.

Out of the corner of his eye, Viktor watched him, working methodically, no need for filling the silence. Even though they had just been so intimate, even though he had technically known him for years, even though Yurio was so like family, Viktor considered how little he actually knew of Otabek. 

“So what made you?” Viktor asked, slipping the first seed into his mouth, crushing it with his tongue against the roof of his mouth, letting the sweet flavor burst open. Otabek looked up, listening, maybe waiting for Viktor to elaborate. “Agree to this. I wouldn’t have thought it was something-”

“Did I not seem like I enjoyed it?” Viktor laughed, eyes downcast towards his bowl. “It’s true it was Yuri’s idea first,” Otabek continued. “We had many talks about it, but eventually I came to the conclusion it could be a good thing. It was a good thing.”

“Yes,” Viktor said, his whole body still feeling very drained and sated and completely wrung out in the most pleasurable way. “A very good thing. Still, I was...surprised.”

“Because?”

Viktor shrugged. “Because you don’t seem like the type of couple to do things like this. You have always been very...private.”

“This is still private, to me,” Otabek said. “Just between the four of us instead of the two of us.” He paused. “I would not have considered this with anyone else, I don’t think. But I trust your Yuuri to take care of my Yuri. And I feel glad that you felt as if you could trust me.”

“I know you’ve never done anything like this before,” Viktor said. “We were worried you might get jealous. I’m still worried Yurio might hit me the next time he sees me.” 

This drew the smallest head shake from Otabek. “He won’t. We didn’t go into this lightly.” The motions of his hands paused, and his mouth opened a few times before he finally seemed to settle on what he wanted to say.“Our bodies are just bodies. Physical. It is my soul that belongs to Yuri. He knows this.” 

“Yes!” Viktor said, a little too loudly, raising just out of his seat and then quickly sitting down again. “Yes, that is how I feel about my own Yuuri.”

Otabek nodded, solemn with the smallest evidence of a smile at the corner of his lips. “I know. I can see the love you have for your Yuuri, and that he has for you.” His slight smile dipped. “I hope you didn’t take any of my earlier comments to heart. I know the things I insinuated in the moment, but he cherishes you more than anyone else in the world. It’s obvious to...everyone.”

“It was just play,” Viktor said. “Imaginary. It was what I wanted. Thank you, Otabek.”

They continued picking apart their fruit in silence, and it wasn’t until Viktor was almost done with his section that he realized Otabek hadn’t eaten a single seed. He had just been carefully pulling it apart and depositing all of them into a tiger-striped food container, which he then closed with the top airtight and put in the refrigerator. Just then, his phone vibrated on the table. Viktor saw it light up with a text from Yuri. Otabek picked it up and looked at it for a moment, then, smiling, turned the screen to Viktor. 

It was a picture of Yuri and Yuuri, under a giant mound of blankets, with Yuuri shoving his face into a pillow and Yuri grinning into the camera. 

_just kicked this motherfucker’s ass at Mario Kart_

As Viktor started smiling, he noticed the three little dots then two more messages pop up in quick succession.

_It was amazing but i’m also ready for you to whisk me away on the back of your magic motorcycle_

_I love you, babe_

Otabek turned his phone back towards him, and Viktor stood to go get his own from his coat pocket. He had multiple texts from Yuuri. The first one was Yuri’s lips stretched wide around Yuuri’s fat cock, eyes dazed, slightly watery, long hair falling in a mess over his shoulders. And maybe Viktor felt fleeting feelings of envy, not sure if they were directed toward Yuri’s youth or his mouth around his husband’s cock, but he brushed them aside. He also felt heat, and pride, and a tingling of excitement. He thought about doing this again, but with all four of them together. 

There were a few more explicit pictures, then one with Yuuri sitting in bed, sipping coffee and eating apple cake. Makkachin’s head peeped just over the side of the bed, and his nose was nudging the plate. Yuuri was smiling behind his mug and something in his expression made Viktor want to cover his phone in kisses. 

_Makka doesn’t understand that good boys still don’t get apple cake._

_I feel like a monster_

_Miss you_

_I love you so much_

Viktor grabbed a leopard print fleece blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around himself as he walked back to the kitchen, texting his husband back. He could hear Otabek in the other room, starting the shower. Viktor leaned against the kitchen window, swaddled in the blanket, the glass cold against his cheek. He smiled as he typed.

_I love you, too_

_My night was perfect, but now I can’t wait until you’re back in my arms_

_I’m so glad you’re mine_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me at [machinewithoutfeelings](http://machinewithoutfeelings.tumblr.com/)


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